


Spare me the details

by 221bitter



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, connor bowers is a dubious little shit, they're all in senior year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bitter/pseuds/221bitter
Summary: When Connor Bowers asks Eddie to help him get back with Richie, everything he knew about his best friend – and about his feelings for said best friend – shifts completely.Inspired by the song Details, by Maisie Peters.
Relationships: Connor Bowers/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 122





	1. Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first (and probably last, because I'm a lazy bitch) Reddie fanfic. I wanna keep it short, three chapters, which I'll try to post this week. Very cliché, but someone had to do it, right?

The thing about the senior year was that the social hierarchy in Derry Area High School was immutable. It didn’t matter what trick you pulled off: if you were a loser in middle school, you’d be a loser going to college. Hell, you’d still be a loser graduating from NYU. So that’s why Eddie Kaspbrak started hurrying his steps when he looked behind his back to find a familiar blur of blonde hair and blue eyes following him.

Of course, Connor Bowers was never as bad as the rest of the Bowers’ gang… but since their typical after school activity used to be carving their initials on middle school kids, the bar is very, very low. So, Eddie was preparing himself to sprint and run for his life when Connor stopped walking and started talking, just loud enough so the other boy could hear him. “Wait, Kaspbrak, I need to talk to you. I’m not with Henry or anything... and I never did anything to you.”

“Yeah, right. You just stood and watched.” Eddie said, halting his steps for a few seconds before walking away again. Fuck, he should’ve accepted Richie’s invitation to play videogames. That’s what you get for being responsible, disciplined and shit.

“I’m not proud of it, okay? I live with the guy.” Connor started following him again. Eddie could hear his footsteps on the sidewalk, and half-prayed for someone to get out of their house to walk their dog, or look out the window, anything to assure him he wouldn’t be captured by a Bowers that day. Well, as if neighborhood watch had ever stopped anything bad from happening in Derry.

“And that’s supposed to make me trust you?”

“You can go back to your house and feel safe ‘till the next day. I go to home and Bowers is there, and I’m not even talking about the junior. I’m talking about his fucking father.” When Connor’s voice cracked in the last sentence, Eddie stopped and turned to look at him. Connor looked genuinely afraid, a lot like his own team of losers when confronted with the school bullies.

His memories of the boy were all a little hurried and vague. He was never more than a passive, shadowy presence behind Henry and Patrick while the duo turned the losers’ days into living hell. Eddie thought he saw him run away once, and in that day an adult miraculously showed up to help them and scare Bowers away. In the next few days, Connor didn’t show up at school. Eddie always wondered if he was the one to save their asses that afternoon, but he could never be sure since it’s hard to see anything clearly when you’re on the receiving end of Patrick Hockstetter’s rage. After that day, he had to spend hours tending to Richie’s wounds; he got the worst of it, what with Bowers threatening to cut him open with a broken bottle of vodka.

“That’s why you stick around?”

Bowers got closer to Kaspbrak so he could lower his voice. “It’s not like I have an option. My mom dropped me with her drunk brother and if I fuck up Henry can literally kill me in my sleep. We share a room.”

“And you don’t think approaching me and telling me these things is fucking up?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, shocked at the admission, and confused by being the receptor of confidential information.

“That’s why you won’t tell anyone about this conversation.” The boy answered, in a threatening tone tinged with desperation.

“What’s this all about, Connor?”

“You guys must have a safe space, right? Somewhere we can talk. I know you do because it’s tricky as hell to find you sometimes.”

“And you think there’s a chance in hell I’ll show you where it is?” Kaspbrak laughed, thinking about how maybe a younger, more naïve, and clown-free version of himself might have done exactly that.

“Yeah, you’re right. Ok. Let’s just go somewhere a little more private then.”

Eddie guided them to the back of the drugstore, where he used to get his placebo medication when he was a kid, and turned to face Connor again. The whole way, Kaspbrak thought of just how stupid the whole thing was. Being alone with a Bowers, willingly, was basically positioning himself over a trap, but his curiosity – and even a little compassion for the older boy – got the best of him.

“Straight to the point, please,” Kaspbrak said, now anxious to get to Richie’s house and pretend nothing happened. Connor nodded and inhaled deeply, seemingly looking for the courage to say whatever it was he was going to say next.

“You’re not homophobic, right? You, the other losers, you accept Richie.”

“Homophobic? What? What are you talking about?”

“You know what homophobia is, we’re not preschoolers.” Bowers rolled his eyes, and the confusion in Eddie’s mind barely even registered Richie’s name thrown in the conversation.

“I know what it is, but I don’t know why you’re asking me that, and… Richie?”

“Just answer me so we can move on, okay? Do you _hate fags_?” Connor asked, deadpan, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh nervously at the ridiculous question.

“No, I don’t _hate fags_ , and your gang seems to think I’m one anyway so I might as well support the community and go out dressed as a rainbow any of these days.”

His answer was a little over-the-top and he knew it. Kaspbrak never felt comfortable thinking about his own sexuality, so he just didn’t, and, by extension, he never thought about anyone else’s either. He just accepted everyone would read him as gay and beat him up for it, so really being gay must be a terrible fate. No need to add up to the pile.

“Ok, hm, that’s… good.” Connor looked away, focusing his eyes on the dirty wall to his left, and swallowed hard before continuing. “Because I’m gay.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. His heart was racing, his hands were cold enough that he knew he was probably sweating profusely, and that was just the beginning. He never knew why that word had such an impact on him, but he figured the reason might have been somewhere between Sonia Kaspbrak’s AIDS combat speeches, and the physical pain that followed right after hearing it from Henry Bowers. Rationally, he knew being gay was nothing but a biopsychosocial reality to a portion of the world's population, just like being heterosexual. But emotionally, it was another story.

“Why are you coming out to me?”

“Because it feels good to share that with someone, anyone, honestly.” Bowers released the air he seemed to be holding on to. “And because I thought you could help me. With Tozier.”

“What’s Richie has to do with you being gay?” Eddie frowned. Now he thought more clearly about what Bowers said before. _You accept Richie_.

“You guys really don’t know. Fuck.” Connor lifted his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes, frustrated, and started pacing around. “Look, I didn’t mean to out him, I just thought _at least you_ knew. You spend every second of the day together.”

“You’re telling me Richie is gay and he told you?”

If Kaspbrak could be honest with himself, he’d admit it fucking hurt. Knowing Richie was gay and in the closet was one thing, but knowing he was out of the closet to someone who wasn’t him? It burned a hole through his stomach. He wished it wasn’t true, but for some unknown reason he believed Connor.

“We had… a thing. Some months ago. And I fucked up.” Bowers’ hands moved to the back of his neck, and he looked almost shy with his head hung low.

“You and Richie? Had a thing?” He laughed; he really couldn’t help it. Eddie could feel the bile threatening to escape his throat while he folded over himself with bitter laughter. “ _When_ did you have a _thing_?” Eddie managed to say, loaded with irony and making air quotes with his shaky fingers. “As you said yourself, I’m with Richie every second of the day. He never spent time with you.”

“He sneaked around to meet me,” Connor said, still looking at his feet, clearly uncomfortable. But it was too late to turn back on his plan. “I sneaked around to meet him, too. We used to play together on the arcade, he invited me to his house one day and it just… happened.”

Eddie’s fight or flight instinct was hitting him. His entire body felt like there was a threat approaching, and his hand was already moving towards the inexistent inhaler in his pocket. He wished he could use one now because his lungs felt like they were failing their only job. _That’s ridiculous_ , he told himself. _Get your shit together_. “Last summer, right? Before the senior year started?”

Connor nodded. Kaspbrak remembered waking up multiple times that summer after their sleepovers and feeling like his bed was a little more spacious than usual. When he asked Richie the next morning, Richie would always say that he couldn’t sleep so he left because he didn’t want to wake Eddie up. Eddie would always say that it was silly and that he didn’t have to leave, but the next morning that would happen again, until, eventually, it stopped before school started.

“So why are you telling me this?”

“Because I really like him, and I think he liked me too. So, if you could help… I don’t know, maybe ask him to talk to me?” Bowers’ voice was almost a whisper.

“Why did you break up?” Eddie asked, suddenly feeling suspicious and protective over Richie. Connor said he fucked up, so that must mean Connor hurt his best friend so bad that the ever-forgiving Richie Tozier had to draw the line.

“Patrick beat you up really bad that summer when he got you alone near the woods. I was there.” The boy risked a look at Eddie but dropped his gaze again. “Richie asked me why I didn’t do anything and… I couldn’t. He never talked to me again.”

Kaspbrak felt like the amount of information waiting to be processed on a queue in his brain was the most overwhelming feeling he ever had to deal with. Richie, his best friend since he learned how to walk and curse, was gay and Connor Bowers’ ex. Also, he broke up with said ex because of him. Oh, and he was supposed to play matchmaker and get the couple back together, apparently. Just a normal day in Derry.

“Look, I- I’ll think about it. I need some time to… you know, that’s a lot of… Wow.”

“Yeah, I know, just meet me here tomorrow, after school? And tell me if you can help me with Rich.”

_Rich. Of course Connor calls him Rich._

“Fine.”

As Eddie rode his bike around town, he was trying to figure out if he should go home, or if he should meet Richie and unload all the shit he found out today to ask for a confirmation of what he knew, deep down, was true. Turns out the anxiety was useless because Tozier was already waiting for him on his doorsteps when he decided to just go home.

As he dropped his bike on the grass near the mailbox, Richie rushed towards him, eyes even wider than usual behind the prescription glasses he had since middle school. “Are you okay? Did they catch you? I couldn’t find you anywhere. The other losers are looking for you in the woods, I looked all around town.” The taller boy analyzed him from head to toe and reached out to grab his face with both hands, awkwardly checking if he was hurt.

“What are you talking about? I’m fine. There was no one after me.” Eddie smacked Richie’s hands away, and Richie seemed to be just slightly disappointed with the gesture.

“Andy told me she saw Connor Bowers following you from school, and you told me you were going home and you didn’t come home so I thought…” Richie was talking fast and, now that the shock was fading, Eddie was starting to notice the wet streaks on his best friends' face and the breathlessness of his tone. Tozier had a panic attack before he arrived.

“Rich, I’m okay. See?” He gestured at himself and smiled shyly. “I’m just fine. Hey, come here.” Eddie laced his arms around Richie’s shoulders and, a few seconds later, he felt the boy relaxing into his embrace and tentatively circling his waist with his lanky arms and pulling Eddie closer. “Besides, you know Connor wouldn’t hurt me.”

That’s when Richie froze.

“What?”

_Yeah, that would be awkward._

Kaspbrak loosened his hold on Tozier so he could take a step back.

“You know Connor wouldn’t hurt me. Maybe the others, but not Connor.”

“How would I know that? They all walk together, they’re all the same.” Richie seemed confused, and Eddie could hear the hurt on his voice. He genuinely thought Connor would beat Eddie, maybe he even thought it was his fault somehow. Hence the panic attack. _Oh, shit_.

“Connor didn’t do anything.” He answered, wondering if he should tell the truth. Since he didn’t know what else to do, and still felt the unconscious, stupid need for confirmation, Eddie just continued: “he just wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Richie’s breath started hitching as he stepped back from Eddie. He had to fix that.

“I know about you, okay? And everything’s fine. Nothing's changed, nothing happened. Just breathe. Wanna come in?”

Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand, pulling him towards the front door, after realizing they were an emotional mess ready to breakdown on his front yard. Richie followed him blindly until they were inside the small bedroom that smelled like Kaspbrak’s citrus shampoo.

“He told you that we… That I… Last summer…” It was all a question, but no question was formed in between all the confusion. Eddie understood, nonetheless.

“He did, and it’s fine. Honestly, the shocking part of this shit is that you kissed someone with that mouth.” Kaspbrak joked, trying to clear the air, and Tozier jumped at the opportunity.

“I did way more than kissing, baby.” He answered, and Eddie felt sick at the thought. “Ask your mama.”

Of course.

“So… you’re gay.” The elephant in the room.

“We’re all a little bit gay I guess.” Tozier diverted, suddenly feeling like he was under the spotlight. He threw himself on his back over Eddie’s bed, and Eddie followed, laying right beside him.

“Tozier…”

“Yes, I’m gay, ok? Homosexual. Fairy. Glen Lantz’s little bitch. You can choose.”

“Glen Lantz? Really? That’s your type?” Kaspbrak rolled his eyes, biting back laughter.

“Curly hair, soft smile, cropped top. Why do you think we watched Nightmare on Elm Street so many times? It’s not that good.”

“That’s exactly what I told you the sixth time you chose this movie for our sleepover!”

Eddie didn’t even think twice about how close the description Richie gave of his type was to Eddie himself.

“Well, now you know... Why did he tell you?” So much for an easy conversation.

As much as Kaspbrak couldn’t stand the idea of Connor and Richie back together – he couldn’t even picture them together in the first place –, he couldn’t lie. Richie had the right to know.

“Connor wants you back. He asked me to talk to you. Convince you to talk to him.”

“And you think I should?”

“What?”

“Get back with him.”

Eddie turned his head to find Richie already staring at him, unreadable. There was something under that seemingly easy question.

“I think you should do whatever you want. Bowers can fuck off if he thinks I’ll throw you into that shit show.” Eddie said, looking back at the ceiling. “But if you want to, you should.”

“Aren’t you mad at him? For everything he did to you?”

“Why would I be? He never beat me.”

“Yeah, he just stood and watched.” Richie sneered, and Eddie remembered saying the same thing to Connor earlier. He smirked at the thought.

“He did that before, you knew what he was like.”

“Yeah, but… It only dawned on me after I saw you… that day… he didn’t do anything. You could’ve died and he didn’t…”

“I’m not one to defend a Bowers, but honestly, what could he have done? He would just get beaten up too. He’s not stupid.”

“Then I’m stupid, I’d get beaten up with you any day. Sign me the fuck up, Kaspbrak.”

Eddie laughed, but there was a warmth growing in his chest that he didn’t notice before when he looked at Richie again and asked him if he wanted to get his ass kicked on a Karate Champ’s match.


	2. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of angst, some flashbacks, and a lot of bad decisions.

They spent the night playing videogames after a quick trip to the woods to let the other losers know Eddie was alive and in one piece. None of the boys mentioned what had transpired that afternoon when Beverly asked what exactly had happened, and that settled their unspoken decision to pretend everything was just the same. But it wasn’t, at least not for Richie.

When Andy approached him, out of breath after running all the way from the school to his neighborhood, he thought for almost ten entire seconds that It was back. Not that what Andy said to him after that was any better than a killer clown.

“I just saw Connor Bowers following Eddie from school. I think they were heading towards Eddie’s house.” The girl muttered, trying to recover from the physical exertion, and Richie barely said “thanks” before running to Eddie’s front yard. Sonia Kaspbrak only opened her window for a few seconds to tell him his friend wasn’t home yet, and that he should go take a shower if he wanted to get inside her house.

After five minutes of waiting, no one showed up, even though Eddie said he’d go straight home that day. He circled the block and nothing. No sign of Connor or his gang, and, more importantly, no sign of Eddie. He ran to the back of the drugstore, knowing his best friend had left his bike there yesterday, and he was a smart boy, enough to run and catch his bike to run away faster if he was being followed by Bowers and his gang. The bike was still there though, and that’s when Richie decided to ask for help.

He went back to his house and called Beverly and Bill, the only losers he knew were home by then, to ask for their help in looking around town for Kaspbrak. Everything was happening so fast his mind was running in circles trying to process the situation. He returned to Eddie’s house, to have Sonia tell him once again her precious bear still hadn’t come home.

Richie didn’t know what to do. Bev and Bill were already looking for their friend in the woods, and Richie had already looked for him downtown, and now the only hope he had left was that the boy would show up later, purple eyes, bruised ribs and split lip once again, for him to patch up. Eddie was terrified of his mother’s first aid kit, and now he refused to go to the doctors, so Tozier had to develop a few abilities to take care of his best friend. However, he didn’t know if his care would be enough this time.

His last recovery was painful, for both. Richie spent the rest of the summer acting like the careful, responsible friend he wasn’t known to be, much like the time they’d rather forget when It broke Eddie’s arm. It was even more painful, though, because there was no one to care for his broken heart as he tried his best to tend to the swelling on his best friend’s cheekbones. The same night he found Eddie laying unconscious on the foliage – and used every trick on his sleeve to figure out if the boy had a concussion –, he marched to Connor Bowers' house, knowing very well he shouldn’t.

Tozier wasn’t thinking clearly, as Connor pointed out, shouting at Richie after he dragged him to a blind spot on the street illumination, behind some old lady’s rose garden. He wasn’t thinking clearly if he thought he could simply show up at Bowers’ property. Richie was going to ruin everything if he wasn’t careful. _What the hell was he thinking?_

Well, he was thinking of the moment when Eddie woke up and told him what happened. Patrick got him alone, apparently after a rough day in school, and used him as a punching bag. Richie cursed and bit back some tears, saying “if only Connor had been there”. Eddie was confused, then. Because, well, Connor _was_ there. Motionless, watching everything.

Richie could see Connor wasn’t happy with what happened. Guilt washed over his face, but Richie could also see a sliver of relief in the boy’s demeanor after realizing Eddie was alive and conscious, at least. Not nearly enough to tamper the rage he was feeling. And the thought of Connor leaving Eddie behind, not even knowing if he was alive…

Tozier doesn’t even remember what was said that night. He only remembers crying and screaming, and Connor grabbing his arms forcefully when he tried to punch the blonde’s face. After that, he’s not pretty sure how he found his way back to Eddie’s house, but that was the first morning in a while that he woke up by his friend’s side again.

The memories took over him and he started crying while waiting for Eddie to show up. _If he shows up. Shut up, he will._ And the thing that hurt the most, was that maybe it was his fault. Maybe he exasperated Connor so much with their breakup that Connor decided to take out his anger on Richie’s weakest spot. And everyone knew what that was. When Richie realized he was crying, his breath was already out of control, much like his heartbeats and blurry, darkened vision. Teenagers shouldn’t have to deal with the threat of murder and physical injuries on the daily, but that’s just how Derry works, and his panic attacks were simply a plus.

He took out his contact lenses with shaky fingers when his second panic attack subsided and put on his old glasses. The tears were still burning the rims of his eyes when he saw Eddie approaching on his bike.

And now he didn’t know where to start to process everything that went down in the last twelve hours. After everything, after going back to Eddie’s bedroom and playing stupid multiplayer games for hours and pretending nothing happened, his friend was asleep by his side, and all he could do was stare at the wall, wondering _what the fuck_ he was supposed to do.

Eddie approached the subject like it was no big deal. He simply blurted everything out, like he always had a tendency of doing, and Richie pretended to cope by hiding behind humor like _he_ always had a tendency of doing. But his traitorous mind kept going back, over and over, to the fact that Eddie now knew he was gay. And even though his friend assured him multiple times that nothing changed, and that he’d even support him in a relationship with his ex – who was very much a male, thank you –, Richie couldn’t help but feel like something was off.

They were always close. Too damn close. Tozier knew it didn’t mean anything to Kaspbrak when he climbed on the hammock and sprawled his legs all over the other boy. It didn’t mean anything when they were play-fighting and they spent just a little more time than needed pressed against each other. It also didn’t mean anything when Richie’s gaze lingered for a few seconds too long on his best friend’s body when they went swimming. But it meant something to Richie, and he was never scared of letting his feelings show because no one really talked about these things in Derry. No one seriously considered any possibility beyond the heterosexual norm, so he was safe. Until now.

Now Eddie knew, so he had to stop being reckless around his best friend. He had to rein his brain and his body, and _for fuck’s sake why are we spooning_?

Richie disentangled his limbs from Eddie’s and moved to the edge of the bed. Eddie didn’t feel things that way. Well, not about him, at least.

And then there was Connor, asking for a second chance, after all that shit. Even though there was no chance he’d ever forgive the boy for what he did, it was tempting. Having Connor at arm’s reach for that summer had been good. It started as a way to take the edge off his feelings for Kaspbrak, and it worked, but Richie was sure he almost fell for the boy before everything happened. And it hurt a lot to be completely estranged from his _somewhat boyfriend_ for the months that followed.

It was all too confusing, and Tozier could already feel his mind rebuilding a wall around the trauma. He could just forget anything happened and go back to normal, except with a little more self-control this time. He could do this.

Eddie and Richie had been friends for so long, Eddie couldn’t tell when things changed for them. He remembered clearly being a mouthy, hyperactive twelve-year-old, followed by his even mouthier, complete nutbag of a friend, at every second of the day. But he couldn’t quite put the finger on when exactly Tozier started turning into a boy that half the girls in his class would like to kiss. And he also couldn’t quite remember when that started bothering him.

It had been a week since Connor asked for his help, and he didn’t go to meet the boy after school the next day like he promised he would. He figured Richie could decide that for himself, and Kaspbrak had nothing to do with that. Except he really wished he did. So now he was walking around the corridors with Richie by his side, who was trying to finish his homework while they ran to a class they were already late for, and he noticed the looks towards his friend’s direction.

Kaspbrak had to admit somewhere between sophomore and senior year, Richie had… grown into his looks, even though his fashion sense was still hideous. Sharp jaw, cheekbones, dark curls, and lean body… the only reasons he still was a loser were his lacking of expressive physical strength and, well, his trash mouth. Still, the girls noticed him, and, for the first time in weeks, that didn’t annoy Eddie. He always thought his annoyance came from his envy of Richie’s growth spurt, which made him taller and probably more attractive to girls than the rest of the group. But now, knowing Richie is gay and doesn’t give a fuck about girls drooling over him, Eddie almost feels relieved. And he definitely won’t be overthinking that turn of events now.

However, when Richie spent the entire class looking out the window and Eddie realized the boy’s looking at a blonde silhouette chain-smoking near the parking lot, the annoyance he wasn’t feeling before made an appearance, with way more strength than it had the right to have.

“Why don’t you just go talk to him?” Eddie leans over his table to whisper to the boy directly in front of me. He wonders if the goosebumps on Richie’s neck were caused by his sudden proximity. _What?_

“Because I don’t want to, Eds.” He answers curtly.

“Of course you do, you’ve been staring at him for almost an hour. And don’t call me Eds.”

“I haven’t been staring, _Eds_.”

“Oh you have, you’re practically sulking watching your lov-“

“Kaspbrak! Silence!” Ms. Miller snapped her ruler on the green board, catching the boy’s attention and interrupting him midsentence.

He could half-see Richie smirking in front of him, the bastard.

Later that day, Eddie had his head on Richie’s lap like so many times before, and Richie was doing his best to stray his mind away from thoughts that could harm their friendship irreparably. There were always things about their dynamics that Tozier could never point out when started, or why. Their usual position on the floor, when Eddie was tired of videogames and Richie held his joystick with one hand and patted Eddie’s hair with the other was one of those things.

“How far did you go? With Connor, I mean.” Kaspbrak suddenly asked with his eyes closed, and his voice completely casual, even though the redness of his cheeks exposed his shyness. When Tozier didn’t answer, still in complete shock at hearing the question, the boy tried to explain it. “It’s just that you’re kinda pining after him, and I guess I didn’t know how… close… you two really were.”

“I’m not pining after him. And I’m not ashamed of talking about sex.” Richie muttered hurriedly, dropping the joystick next to his legs. He thought Connor was the one Richie was pining after?

Eddie smirked, still not opening his eyes.

“Oh, you’re not ashamed? Then answer me.”

Richie cleared his throat, and desperately searched for a joke he could use to turn the table. Too much for being careful and having self-control. “Are you sure you want me to start talking about blowjobs with your head near my dick?”

Eddie blurted out a burst of surprised laughter but didn’t move his head, only opened his eyes to stare at Tozier. “You’re an asshole. That’s how far you went? Blowjobs? And you’re already all heartbroken over Connor?”

“Yeah, right. Can you imagine if he fucked me? I’d be pulling a John Cusack outside his window.” Richie joked and noticed the boy tensing on his lap. Eddie tried to school his mildly shocked expression before Tozier caught it, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Beep beep, Richie.” He said, lifting himself off the floor and away from his friend, who was still laughing at his own joke.

“Hey Eds, you’re the one who asked!” 

Eddie couldn’t look in Richie’s eyes for a few days after that witty remark.

He decided it was his duty as a friend to force Richie into talking with Connor, and he used every weapon in his arsenal to do so. Not that he thought Tozier and their bully would be a stellar couple, but the boy was visibly shaken since the incident with his ex. He was more distant, sulky, even… repressed. And Eddie wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Tozier hasn’t threatened to smother anyone with his disgusting socks in like, two weeks. What’s going on?” Bev asked one day, looking inquisitively at Richie that, for once, decided to sit on the floor and surrender, leaving the hammock for Eddie. Suddenly, Eddie didn’t seem that interested in it anymore. “Eddie, did you break my baby’s heart?”

“What? Me?” “What the fuck? Not Eddie.” Eddie and Richie rushed to say at the same time, and Stan found renewed interest in the conversation he had abandoned hours ago in favor of reading.

“Not Eddie? Who, then?” The older boy asked, without lifting his eyes from his book. They could see his devious smile anyway.

“Why would you think I’d be the one to break Trashmouth’s heart?”

“Well, because-“ Beverly started answering but Tozier was faster to interrupt.

“Why are we discussing my heart? We all know it belongs to Sonia, my ride or die, my one and only.” Richie sighed and stared at the ceiling dreamily before Eddie sent a pillow flying on his face.

“Yeah, right. As I remember she’s not your type, asshole.” Eddie remarked, and Stan looked confused at the turn of the conversation.

“All Kaspbraks are my type, baby.” Richie winked, which, as per usual, earned an eye roll from everyone in the room.

Eddie even went as far as talking about his mother. He knew very well what it was like living with an enemy because that’s what Sonia Kaspbrak was to him. Someone who abused him and made him terrified to react for half his life… much like Connor, who never interfered with Henry’s plans just to save his own ass. That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, since Richie got mad at him instantly for making such comparison, but by the end of the third week, he’d agreed to talk to Connor.

It was bittersweet, for Eddie. He hated the way Richie was acting these last weeks, so he did the only thing he could think of… but it wasn’t his favorite life decision by far. He hated the idea of Richie being in love with Connor, but apparently he was, and their breakup was motivated by Tozier trying to do the noble thing and kick the ass of the coward who let a smaller boy get beaten up. But, well, you don’t choose who you love.

However, Kaspbrak only started to realize the dimensions of the mistake he had made later that night. After school, he saw Richie sneakily entering the car of one of Connor’s friends, and he knew Connor was the one driving. Richie had told his friend he’d be back by ten, and that he’d fill Eddie in on their relationship status after they talked.

Eddie wished him good luck.

He wasn’t being completely honest.

Half of him knew he also wasn’t being completely selfless trying to play matchmaker for his friend. Half of him _knew_ he was teasing Richie to see just how far he could go, just how far Richie would go, because he didn’t want to believe his friend really was in love with someone else. Well, apparently he pushed enough, and now he pushed Richie into Connor’s arms. But that was just fine, right? As long as the boy stopped acting like a wounded lover every minute they were together.

By three a.m., Eddie gave up on waiting for Richie and tried to fall asleep, but he ended up spending the entire morning staring at the ceiling and waiting for the alarm to ring. He only relaxed by seven a.m., after walking half-dead to school and catching a glimpse of his friend near their lockers.

“Long night, Trashmouth?” Eddie asked casually, approaching the boy to open his own locker.

“I’m not the one looking like hell, Eds. What happened?” Concern tinged Richie’s expression as he frowned and stared at the dark circles under Kaspbrak’s eyes.

“Forgot about Chemistry homework, had to finish it last night.” He lied, diverting his gaze from his friend.

“Good thing I didn’t show up then.”

“Yeah, good. So, what happened last night?”

Richie closed his locker and untied the jean jacket that hung over his hips to wear it. Eddie caught a whiff of menthol cigarette when the fabric fell over Richie’s shoulders. He noticed the same smell on Richie’s breath. His stomach lurched.

“I decided to give it one more chance. But… If he ever fucks up like that again, we’re done for good. I made that clear.” Tozier smiled softly, and Eddie knew, he was very much aware, that he should be relieved. Once again, he wasn’t.

“That was before or after you swallowed each other’s heads?” He joked, but the joke was infused with venom Richie had never heard coming from his best friend.

“What? You’re the one who convinced me. You know making out with your boyfriend is in the job description, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware. Just… spare me.” Eddie looked down at his feet as he closed his own locker, and decided he had to gather his shit and put it back together, stop acting like a fucking child. He just needed one hour. Two, maybe. “See you at lunch.”

Richie looked disappointed with his reaction, so Eddie decided it was best if he didn’t make visual contact. He distanced himself without raising his gaze, and that’s when he noticed the jacket wasn’t even one of Richie’s.

Yeah, okay. Probably three hours.


	3. Mean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again, months later, decided to finish this fic! I'm sorry it took me so long, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. <3

Almost three months since Richie decided to give Connor a chance, and he still had no clue what the fuck he was doing. As Richie watched the boy climb to his window, he felt his heart clench with the memories of Eddie doing the exact same thing, a hundred times before. It wasn’t working out like it did last time.

“Hey, love,” Connor said while swinging his legs over the windowsill and smiling shyly like he always did. There was always something childish about him, even though his tired features told another story. Richie allowed himself two seconds to wonder about that incongruence before he returned his already divided attention to the blank page in front of him. He never had trouble with homework, but, lately, his focus was as thin as his verbal filter.

“Already finished your paper?” Richie asked, frowning a little in confusion.

“Well…”

“You forced someone to finish it for you,” Richie concluded with a deadpan, but he already felt uneasy and irritated.

“The perks of being a Bowers.”

Connor dropped his weight on Richie’s bed and winked, but Richie didn’t share his boyfriend’s colorful humor. He turned back to his homework. “I thought you were done with that shit.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything serious, it’s just homework. Nothing like what Henry would do.”

 _Nothing like what Henry would do_. He heard that same sentence so many times since September.

“It’s still wrong, Connor.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s just a random kid who probably wouldn’t even enjoy his free time anyway. Have you ever seen the Andersons at a party?” Connor giggled but stopped himself when he noticed his boyfriend was holding on to his poor pencil a little too tightly. “What? Do you have a secret crush on Derek Anderson too? Here I thought I only had to worry about Kaspbrak.”

Richie couldn’t turn to face Connor now. His head felt warm, and he didn’t know if it was anger or embarrassment – he was sure, however, that his face was red. “I don’t have any secret crush, stop trying to turn this on me.” He could hear the boy give a chuckle behind him, and it only made it worse.

“You’re his pet since elementary school, Rich. But it’s ok, I’m not jealous of a straight boy.”

It was a lie. Connor was jealous, and it wasn’t the first time he referred to Eddie in these terms.

Despite how many times Richie told him his friendship with Kaspbrak was the most valuable thing in his life, Connor couldn’t drop the subject. He seemed to enjoy using every gap in the conversation to talk about how pathetic it was that Richie was still “Eddie’s pet”, or puppy, and variations. And even though Richie knew it was fucked up, he couldn’t deny it. That’s why it hurt so bad.

Of course, Eddie never treated him like that… but Richie would let him if that was all he could get from his friend. He was already settling for less, what with Eddie treating him with cold indifference most of the time during those last months. He knew he would be anything the boy asked him to be… and Connor knew it too, apparently, because the subject kept resurfacing and Richie was never the one to bring it up. It wasn’t even worth joking about.

“Stop talking about him like that.”

“See? You’re not even mad at what I said about you, you’re mad at what spilled on him.” Connor answered, the humorous tone leaving his voice. “You’re such an idiot, Rich. He would never do the things I did for you. No one would.”

“What exactly are you doing for me?” He finally turned, placing his thighs on each side of the back of the chair. Connor was still stretched on his bed, looking unbothered.

“What? Did you forget I blackmailed Bowers, a guy who could murder me? For you?”

“For me? Connor, it was the right thing to do, it wasn’t _for me_.”

“It was for you, Rich, and you know that.” Connor frowned before he rolled back his eyes.

“So what happens if we break up? You go back to being an asshole?”

“We won’t break up, baby, I promise.” He winked and smiled smugly at Richie. Richie shook his head for a few seconds to wipe away the crazy idea that that last promise sounded a lot like a threat.

*

“Ok, let’s stop pretending everything’s just normal,” Beverly stated, bringing all the losers out of their reverie. Eddie knew what Beverly was talking about, because he himself couldn’t manage to deviate the train of his thoughts, and every road in his head brought him to one stupid subject: Richie.

Richie was late, once again, but it was just his typical behavior. He only used to arrive early to meet the losers because Eddie dragged him all the way from his house without a second of delay. Well, not anymore. When he finally lifted his head from the comic-book on his hands, every pair of eyes in the room was staring at him. “What?”

“What’s g-going on between you and Richie?” Bill asked, a little shy, but still in control of the situation like always.

“Nothing’s going on, why?” Eddie said, dropping his eyes back to the pages on his lap.

“You’re acting weird. It’s like you… b-broke up or something.”

Ben chuckled, which earned him a murderous glare from Beverly. Eddie just snorted without lifting his eyes.

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s serious, Eddie,” Stan said suddenly, forcing Kaspbrak to look up in shock. Stan rarely, if ever, got involved in drama. He just let the losers sort their shit out, too mature to throw himself in pointless discussions – like most of their discussions were.

“What do you want me to say? Nothing happened.” He shrugged his shoulders, but the losers seemed unconvinced. “If you think he’s acting weird, ask him.”

“You must think we’re stupid.” Beverly looked at him with an incredulous expression. “You idiots are almost never in the same room at the same time anymore, and you used to be joined at the hip. Something happened here, and you’re not leaving until you tell us what.”

“What do you think happened then? Because I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The room went silent when they heard steps nearing their hiding place _. What a lovely moment for Richie to arrive_.

“What’s up, bitches? Did someone die?” Richie said as he jumped from the ladder and dropped his backpack on the floor next to Ben.

Eddie took the opportunity to pick up his own backpack and leave, while Beverly glared at his back with enough anger and confusion that he swore she could’ve burned his skull. “No one died _yet_.”

*

As the memory of It faded slowly from Eddie’s waking moments, like red angry scars on his back that were kept hidden from the world and from himself while the sun was over their heads, some more trivial fears started clouding his mind. One of these was, of course, Beverly’s rare anger spurts.

After _that_ Summer, the girl seemed to learn her voice and sharp words could carry a lot of power, and not even Stanley was willing to see what would happen if things didn’t go her way. Luckily, Beverly didn’t use this weapon frequently, and she also had an annoying tendency to be right. That’s how Eddie and Bill ended up stealing a stupid amount of alcohol from a grocery store while she distracted the security guards with a silly story about a missing dog. Well, it’s not like they were doing that for the first time, either, so they filled their empty backpacks with bottles and sneaked out while the redhead ugly cried to the officer and attracted worried glances from the store clerks.

“Excited for t-tonight?” Bill asked when they were two blocks away from the store, hearts still beating a little too fast, but the question made Eddie’s heart sink.

It was Richie’s birthday, and the losers pretended like they didn’t remember it the entire week, a childish game they played every year. Usually, Richie would keep leaving clues and sneaking knowing glances at them, trying to figure out their plans, but this year it seemed like he just… didn’t care. Beverly and Bill, involved as they were in planning the perfect “surprise” party, didn’t take notice of Richie’s apathy, but Eddie did. Hell, he felt like everything he ever did for the past month was watching Richie from a safe distance, feeling Stanley’s worried glare boring through his skull.

“Yeah, super excited. I just hope your parents don’t find all that shit in the basement.”

“They’ll be g-gone for at least 3 days and left me with pizza money. I’m like, a rockstar n-now.” He nudged Eddie’s ribs and they laughed before Bill was suddenly serious again. “Do you think someone will snitch on us if we invite more people from school? Beverly is set on having our class over to please Richie, but I don’t want my parents to find out we’d been drinking.”

“Don’t worry, Bill. It’s Derry. No one cares about the bad shit that happens here.”

“You’re probably right… And hey, c-can you get Richie to show up on t-time today? Bev is already stressed out.”

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him after school today. Didn’t Ben take care of it?”

“Richie gave him the impression he wouldn’t be showing up alone… Isn’t he going with you?”

 _Wouldn’t be showing up alone_. No, Richie didn’t talk to him about it. In fact, Richie seemed to avoid him altogether. Or maybe it was him who was avoiding Richie, but it wasn’t an appropriate moment to reflect on the searing pain of watching himself losing his best friend for the most stupid reason. “No.”

“Hm… weird,” Bill answered, sneaking a weird glance in Eddie’s direction that he pretended not to notice.

*

The thing is: Eddie never really got drunk before. All he knew was that TV shows had a tendency of presenting alcohol as the ultimate angst cure, and every mature main character ended up crying over a bar stool sometime during the season. He didn’t have the fancy cups or the poorly lit ambiance to make his stupid idea more glamorous, but it didn’t matter. As soon as the decoration was ready and Beverly was finally satisfied with the vodka jello shots, he decided it was time to start forgetting his terrible last few weeks.

He rested his head on the back of Bill’s black leather couch, a couple jellos in hand, and started preparing himself for watching Richie and Connor crossing the front door together. Were they coming out? Maybe. If they were coming to the party as a couple, then was it… serious? Were they planning on sticking together for the rest of the year? Weren’t they afraid of Henry Bowers? Come to think of it, it had been a while since Henry messed with them… since Connor and Richie started dating. So maybe it was a good thing, after all, and Eddie should just get over himself and start talking to Richie again, because it didn’t make sense for Richie to ignore him, so Eddie was pretty sure it was the other way around and that he was the one acting like an asshole for no fucking reason other than childish jealousy. Maybe…

“Hey, the red ones are my favorites. Pick the blue jellos next time,” Beverly said, sitting next to him, taking the tiny cup from his hand – the one he still hadn’t chugged – and pouring the red goop in her mouth. The interruption made him realize his head was warmer than usual, and it was getting easier and easier for him to get lost in abstract anxious thoughts. _That’s what getting drunk feels like?_

“But the red ones are my favorite!”

“Glad to see you’re already getting in the mood. Thought I’d have to talk you into drinking apple cider.”

“Nope, I’m absolutely, one hundred percent in the mood. When does the fun begin?”

Beverly’s devious grin before she connected her cellphone to the Bluetooth player was the last thing Eddie would remember with clarity.

*

When Richie arrived at Bill’s house, he realized the losers had given up on the pretense of a surprise party, probably because he was almost an hour late ( _without Eddie to keep me on the line_ , his mind supplied). The lights were on, the music was loud enough that he could hear a melodic buzz coming from the house, and he was grateful that the weather was chilly enough that there weren’t any wanderers venturing outside to smoke. He didn’t want anyone to see him with Connor.

“You can go first. I’ll wait outside for a couple minutes… it’d be rude to arrive later than the birthday boy.”

“Are you sure?” Connor asked, not looking especially enthusiastic. He told Richie earlier that birthdays weren’t a big deal to him, _sorry I didn’t buy you anything_.

“Yeah. See you in there.”

Richie watched Connor’s silhouette disappearing behind the door and sat down on the grass, patting his jeans jacket for his lighter and pack of cigarettes. The boy knew it was Beverly who made the playlist because he recognized The Fleetwoods muffled on the background, and she was the only one in the group altruist enough to choose songs he really enjoyed despite their unpopularity. It made him feel guilty about how bad he wished he could avoid this party.

“You’re gonna kill yourself with that shit. And your teeth will be gross.”

The familiar voice startled Richie out of his reverie and he dropped the lit cigarette over his leg, the tip leaving a black mark on his trousers. “Fuck, Eds, don’t sneak on your old man like that,” he muttered, hurrying to grab the cigarette before it burned through the fabric. “Wait, am I going crazy or did I hear you slurring?”

“Me? Nope. No, I don’t slur. Why are you here? It’s your party!” Eddie was frowning when he dropped on his bare knees next to Richie.

“Are you drunk? Is this a prank?”

“These are better. The menthol ones smell like shit,” he pointed out when Richie let out the cigarette smoke in his throat, ignoring the other boy’s comments about his current state.

“Yeah, they’re Connor’s favorites. Not mine,” Richie answered, having already given up on getting answers from Eddie. He was clearly drunk, his face was flushed, his hair was a mess, and his lips were colored red… like lipstick. Something ugly twisted in his chest at the sight, and he had to force himself to stop staring.

“I don’t give a fuck about Connor’s favorites.”

It took Richie by surprise; he was shocked by the bite he heard on Eddie’s voice. Richie was used to Eddie being a whiny asshole sometimes, a hot-headed little shit who always got what he wanted from his best friend. But Eddie was never, _ever_ mean to him. Suddenly, Richie was reminded of the way their friendship was wearing down, day after day, for the last month. How Eddie seemed to avoid him, how he appeared to be almost scared of being in the same room as Richie sometimes. It would be easy to go back to their old patterns, to joke their problems away, but the evidence of Eddie’s change of behavior was unavoidable. Sneaking a glance at his lips again, Richie wondered if his best friend was dating a girl now. He wondered if he would hear it from Eddie, or from the gossip on the halls.

“What’s the problem with you?”

“What? Do I have to care about your boyfriend?” Eddie had a bitter smirk on his face, but his lack of balance forced him to lean over Richie, hands unconsciously looking for support on his friend’s thighs. Richie hoped that Eddie was drunk enough to not notice the hitch on his breath before he had the chance to get mad at the snarky response.

“Look, you don’t have to like him, but you’re acting weird since last month. What the hell, Eddie?”

“You’re acting weird!” Eddie’s face folded in a frown, and he tentatively lifted one of his unstable hands to run it through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t wanna know where you two are making out, or what’s your fucking song, or if he’s a fucking Scorpio. I don’t give a fuck!”

“You kept asking me things and then getting mad when I answered them!” Richie said through gritted teeth, trying hard not to raise his voice. He felt the urge to get up and leave Eddie behind to cool his head, but, for the few silent seconds, the boy looked like he’d stumble to the floor if Richie did so.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled, trying hard to get up by himself. Richie took pity on him and closed his eyes shut before wrapping an arm around Eddie’s slim waist. After so long of not even daring to look in each other’s directions, being so close to his friend again felt intoxicating. His hair had no right to smell so good, and why did his body have to be so warm against Richie's?

They were already standing but Eddie still took a few moments to find balance on his feet. Observing how inebriated he was, Richie decided it would be best if he didn’t read too much into anything his friend did or said.

“Hey, Rich, I almost forgot. I got you something. Wait… Wait here.”

Eddie hurried into the house and Richie was left behind, a confused expression plastered on his face before the boy returned with a red cupcake in hands and a cute smile on his face.

“Red Velvet from Liza’s Bakery, your favorite.” Eddie seemed so proud of himself, and Richie’s heart fluttered at the sight.

“Liza closed the bakery years ago.”

“A favor for a friend.” His smile faltered a little. “Wait, I don’t have any candles.”

“Hm, we can think of something, I guess…” Richie answered, wanting to see that bright smile on his friend’s face again. He patted his pockets and, finding the pack of cigarettes, he had the most disgusting idea. Eddie was horrified by Richie placing a cigarette over the red frosting and lighting it, but there was a glint to his eyes, something tugging at the side of his lips.

“Happy birthday, Rich. Make a wish.”

Richie closed his eyes, but it didn’t matter. He kept seeing the same curious brown eyes staring at him, the same red-tinted lips, and he couldn't wish for anything else.


End file.
